Free The Sugar Planter's Daughter by Sharon Maas Page B

sky, and clouds drifted past in the pale moonlight, and I felt the pulse of the earth and my smallness in the grand scheme of things and a voice rose up in me, a voice so small it was near silent, and it said: You are. That is all. Be Here Now .
    And with that voice came calmness, and no more tears, only a deep intake of breath as I settled into a renewed sense of simply being alive, and filled with joy and purpose and
    Purpose! My purpose was right here, where I was, and right now, and I was neglecting it! Winnie! She was my purpose, and I had left her behind, in that confused and floundering crowd! I turned and ran.

11
    Winnie
    I n order to keep the meetings truly secret, the People for Justice group met at a different place each Saturday night, that place only revealed through word of mouth on the Saturday morning. Tonight the meeting place was on one of the playing fields near the Sea Wall.
    I couldn’t help the colour of my skin, but I had to prove that I was not of a different ilk, and I had to take the distrust and sometimes blatant dislike I attracted as part of my heritage. I had to earn first their trust and then, if that went well, perhaps also their respect and their affection. And so, attending that first rally after my marriage, I went in disguise; I wore a black veil that hid my pale face, and kept my hands concealed.
    George and I went together; I rode on the crossbar of his bicycle, and he let me down when we were near the field so that I could walk the remaining short distance. George himself wore a mask; just a half-hood that covered the top part of his face, with slits for his eyes. His work was becoming more and more dangerous, and it was vital that his identity be kept secret. Theo X had committed no crime that was in the book; but he was working to destabilise the colony’s government, and that, in the eyes of the British, was indeed a crime.
    I arrived in good time, and quietly merged with the crowd and found a place to sit on the hard ground. All around me, others took their seats; mostly men, some couples, but no other women alone as I was. But I spotted a group of three young women, sitting near me. I longed to be part of such a group; to have a friend, another female, who thought as I did, felt as I did! Someone to share my hopes and aspirations with! I had had few friends back on the plantation; Emily Stewart, in fact, was the only girl I could regard as a true friend, but I had lost touch with her since my engagement. What a shock that must have been to her! And so I was on my own here in Georgetown. But I must be patient; one day, I would find friends.
    Meanwhile, I edged nearer to those three ladies. As a single woman in that crowd of mostly men I was an anomaly, and I noticed that I was indeed drawing attention. Heads turned to look at me; the fact that I was wearing a veil made me a mystery woman, and I understood their curiosity. How I wished I could tear away that veil, and sit there open-faced as did the three women in that group!
    They put their heads together, and one of them glanced back at me: they were talking about me! I had attracted their attention, just as they had attracted mine. In that moment I made a bold decision: I stood up, walked over to the little group and sat down.
    â€˜Hello!’ I said. ‘May I sit with you?’
    One of them giggled, and they shuffled to make room for me. ‘Yes of course – sit down,’ said the girl who had giggled.
    Another said, ‘Why you wearin’ a veil?’
    I looked around to make sure we were not being watched – we weren’t; it seemed the fact that I was now part of a group had assuaged people’s curiosity – and gestured for them to gather closer. Once they had shuffled near to me I lifted my veil, and quickly dropped it again. They all gasped.
    My face was well known. During the trial – less than six months ago – it had been splashed all across the newspapers, on the front